Karl's fleet did not ease off after their first volley was neutralized. If anything, the barrage turned even more ferocious.
Twenty three warships poured fire from every angle, cannonballs lashing the sea like a rainstorm of iron. Under Rayleigh's precise helm work, the Oro Jackson pushed her limits to evade.
The battle had not even truly begun, yet the Roger Pirates were already stuck in a defensive posture.
At that moment, Bullet stepped up in front of Roger.
The two faced each other. Morning light slanted in from the side, carving deep shadows across Bullet's face. In his scarlet, slit pupils, the whole sky full of cannon fire was reflected.
"Let me go," he said.
Roger looked at him, not answering immediately.
Explosions thundered all around them, yet between the two of them there seemed to be a pocket of silence.
"Alone?" Roger finally asked.
"Alone." Bullet nodded.
"Most of their firepower is focused on the Oro Jackson. If I attack first, they will have to split their forces to deal with me. Or they can keep focusing on the ship, and I will pick them off from the flanks, one by one."
Rayleigh glanced back at him in the middle of barking orders.
"You will be a moving target."
"I can fly," Bullet replied. "And my defense is enough to endure standard shells."
He lifted his right arm. Partial dragonization flared to life, and Black Scale Armament came online in the same instant.
Black scales flowed over his skin, dark gold lines pulsing beneath them. Under the flicker of the cannon fire, they gleamed like living metal.
Roger stared at that arm for a few seconds, then suddenly broke into a wide grin. It was the bold, familiar grin Bullet knew well.
"Alright," Roger said. "Let us see just how far you can go."
He turned toward the crew, his voice crashing over the deck like thunder.
"Everyone, listen up!"
"From here on, the focus of this battle changes."
"Bullet is our spearhead. We cover and finish what he opens!"
"Is that clear?!"
There was a brief pause, then,
"Clear!"
The crew answered as one.
Some faces still carried doubt, but no one questioned their captain's call.
Bullet turned and walked toward the rail.
Behind him, Shanks suddenly shouted, "Mr. Bullet! Take me with you!"
"You stay on the ship," Bullet said without looking back.
He swung himself over the railing and onto the narrow step outside the hull.
He glanced once at the Oro Jackson.
Rayleigh's focused profile at the helm, Shanks's frustrated yet determined gaze, Roger's smile full of unshaken trust.
And the faint warmth of the silver coin against his chest.
Enough.
He stepped off into empty air.
At the peak of his ascent, full beast form detonated out of him.
This time he did not take on the full three hundred meter form. That size was ill suited for maneuvering through dense cannon fire.
He chose an eighty meter mid sized form instead, with a wingspan of a hundred and twenty meters. Large enough to be devastating, small enough to keep peak mobility.
The Black Dragon descended upon the world.
His pitch black body unfurled across the morning sky. Membranous wings beat once, and the gust they kicked up deflected several nearby shells off course.
Scarlet pupils swept across the sea and locked onto a first target in an instant.
The nearest ship with the heaviest fire, a twin masted warship.
"There!"
"Fire, fire!"
The gunners on that ship frantically cranked their cannons upward, but they were already too late.
Bullet dove.
He did not use his black flame breath. Instead he chose the most primitive, most efficient method available to him.
His body.
Eighty meters of dragon flesh turned into a living shell, screaming down at supersonic speed toward the enemy vessel.
Boom.
The wooden hull disintegrated the instant they collided.
The keel snapped. The frame shattered.
The shockwave hurled pirates into the air. Their screams were swallowed by the avalanche roar of splintering timber.
Bullet did not linger.
The moment he punched through the ship, he twisted his body and opened his jaws wide. Devour activated.
Everything that could be consumed, matter and energy alike, was ripped inward and swallowed whole.
First ship, sunk.
For a heartbeat, Karl's fleet fell into confusion. They had not expected their enemy to charge, let alone that only one man would do it.
"Do not panic!" Karl bellowed from the flagship.
"All cannons, aim at that Black Dragon! Bring it down!"
The order spread like wildfire.
At least fifteen ships swung their guns upward, abandoning their barrage on the Oro Jackson to concentrate fire on Bullet instead.
Cannonballs screamed in from every direction.
In midair, Bullet killed his momentum, then snapped into a violent change of course.
His wings folded at bizarre angles, his body spinning like a gyroscope as he slipped through the gaps between three shells by a hair.
Then he accelerated again, streaking toward the second target ship.
This time he changed tactics.
At fifty meters out, he opened his jaws and inhaled.
A monstrous suction roared into existence out of nowhere.
Canvas, rigging, even a few pirates who had not been holding onto anything were ripped off the deck and dragged skyward.
The ship's speed collapsed, and its hull groaned in protest under the sudden strain.
Bullet plunged down. His dragon claws reached out.
Rip.
Claws wrapped in Black Scale Armament tore through the side of the hull as if it were paper.
He seized the edge of the breach and heaved.
The entire ship split open under his strength, a massive wound torn along its side. Seawater roared in through the gap.
The pirates on board scrambled in despair to plug the flood, but the opening was far too big.